


You Can Dance Better with the Devil You Know

by cold_feets



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cold_feets/pseuds/cold_feets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You have no idea what I'm dealing with." Downstairs, Sam is still screaming, pleading, begging to be let out.  The sound is enough to leave Cas frayed around the edges; he can only imagine what it's doing to Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Dance Better with the Devil You Know

**Author's Note:**

> Follows "My Bloody Valentine" (5.14).

By the time Dean makes it back inside, he's a mess, most of the way through a bottle of scotch and shivering a bit from the cold.

Cas sighs as Dean collapses on the couch, the bottle still hanging limply in his hands.

"What?" Dean snaps.

"You need to stop this."

"You have no idea what I'm dealing with." Downstairs, Sam is still screaming, pleading, begging to be let out. The sound is enough to leave Cas frayed around the edges; he can only imagine what it's doing to Dean.

"Actually," Cas says as he tugs the bottle from Dean's loose grip, "I do."

He eyes what remains of its contents with a raised eyebrow before setting it aside, far out of Dean's reach. He notes that Dean doesn't even try to stop him.

"Oh, yeah? One of your brothers get strung out on demon juice?"

Cas shakes his head. "No. One of my brothers got so lost and confused while he was convinced that he was doing the right thing that he was cast out of the light, and eventually, I lost all hope for him."

Dean doesn’t look at him, but he goes still, listening.

“Dean, there is still hope for Sam.”

"I don't know anymore."

"You don't have to _know_. You just have to believe."

But Sam is raging on beneath their feet, and Cas isn’t surprised when Dean scoffs. “Believing ain’t exactly my thing, Cas.”

“I’m aware.”

Dean slumps back against the couch cushions, head canted to the side, still distracted by his brother. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

And not long ago, Castiel would not have had an answer for this. He did not _want_ ; he followed orders. Now, he finds he has too many: for Sam to be well, for all of this to end without anymore death, for peace. He hesitates a moment, and then says it as simply and honestly as he can. "I want you to be okay."

Dean swallows hard and when he speaks, there is a rasp in his voice that wasn’t there before. "Why do you care?"

"Because one of us has to."

Dean smirks, tight and unlaughing. He will sit here and listen to Sam scream all night. Penance. His eyes are glassy, but still sharp, and he scrubs a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath that shakes in a way that makes Cas's hands fist in his coat pockets.

Cas can't fix this. It's too powerful. They can only wait.

He sits beside Dean on the dusty old couch, the springs creaking, and Dean still won't look at him.

"This is not your fault. You are not responsible for him."

"Yes, I am," Dean whispers.

"It’s late. You should rest."

Dean shakes his head.

"I will stay. Make sure he's all right. You should rest."

It is a long, still moment filled with only Sam’s muffled curses before Dean finally nods.

Cas reaches up his hand and brings his fingers to Dean's temple, and he is surprised when Dean shuts his eyes, presses his rough cheek, still cold, to Cas's palm, just for a second

"He'll be all right," Cas promises, and then he urges sleep upon him with a thought and waits for dawn to come.


End file.
